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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436736">Renovations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_jinxed_one/pseuds/the_jinxed_one'>the_jinxed_one</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alex is a mess, Construction Worker Alex, Domestic, George is smitten, M/M, more fluff than I admit to</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:55:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_jinxed_one/pseuds/the_jinxed_one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George's home is in need of some updates. At Angelica's recommendation, he hires the construction company she used. His home is invaded with people and he's just praying for this mess to be over. Until he finds himself smitten with one of the workers. Suddenly, he doesn't mind the process being dragged out...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/George Washington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. All part of the job</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George pulled into his driveway in a hurry. He put his car in park but didn’t bother to pull the keys from the ignition. He was really only stopping inside for a moment. In the chaos of that morning between trying to navigate around the workers he had hired to renovate and trying to make it to the office before his first meeting of the day he had left a new client folder on his desk. He was focused on retrieving the file and getting out of everyone’s hair.</p><p>It had been a month since renovations had started. He wasn’t entirely thrilled about the havoc that was his home. His peace had been disturbed on the regular but he justified its worth. His home was long overdue for an update. He preferred a more open floor plan than he currently had and while it worked just fine when he had bought the house, it was hardly ideal. Angelica had offered the contractor she had used for her condo renovations last year and having seen their work and been assured that they worked efficiently and stuck to schedule, he had gone ahead and hired them.</p><p>Still, the noise and unfamiliar people being in his space at any given hour of the day left him on shaky ground. He opted to stay out of their way and hope that in doing so, the process would be over as expediently as possible. However, that morning he had been stopped by the designer, a Monsieur Marie-Joseph Gilbert Lafayette. George would admit he was a beautiful man that oozed charisma but he insisted on George approving things. And honestly, George preferred to differ to the expert opinion on most matters.</p><p>He nodded to Hercules, Gilbert’s associate, who was poring over fabric samples in what would soon, god willing, be his living room. He hustled up the stairs and was nearing his bedroom when he heard a delightful rhythm better suited for a cabana than his home coming from his office.</p><p>The door was cracked so he saw no harm in venturing closer into the room. He pressed the door open and was greeted with a sight that ought to be funny were it not so provocative. A man of average height to anyone but him was dancing through the room with his back to George. His white t-shirt was spotted with paint and plaster, his jeans worn in such a fashion that they fit like a second skin, his feet were light in work boots. He stepped and shimmied and rolled with the beat while he serenaded an all but invisible audience in Spanish. George ought to have been perturbed that the man wasn’t working. He just couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered.</p><p>He hated to admit it to himself and he’d be damn if he admitted it to anyone else… but it was charming. And the man, at least from this angle, was attractive. His hips wove and dipped and twisted with eroticism. The lyrics ceased and the tempo picked up. The man began to dance with enthusiasm, his body moving to occupy the space. George thought about clearing his throat. He should really let this stranger know he wasn’t alone but he couldn’t bring himself to make noise.</p><p>The man shifted his free hand to place it on his abdomen and raised the hand holding the paint brush as he shifted his weight and began to move as though he had a partner. He began to move backwards, towards the doorway, towards George. He spun and managed to catch his boot on his laces. In a stupid movement, George reached out to keep him from toppling. He managed to keep the man off the ground, astounded by how little he weighed. The smell of paint was infinitely stronger and he looked at his arm and saw the soft shade of grey Gilbert had chosen splattered on the charcoal grey of his suit.</p><p>“Oh fuck,” came a soft, husky voice under his chin. He helped right the smaller man.</p><p>“Alright?” he asked, his voice thick with what he hoped was concern.</p><p>“‘M fine. How long were you there? What are you even doing here? Oh my god, your jacket.” It all came out at once in a hurry. George had to hide a smile as he watched large brown eyes go from disoriented to embarrassed and finally concerned in a flash. Cute, he thought to himself.</p><p>“Long enough.” he answered cryptically as the man pulled away and placed the paintbrush on a rag. “I live here. The real question is, what are you doing here?”</p><p>“Oh. Oh… shit. I just got paint on you…. Gil is gonna be so pissed when he finds out.” He ignored the question. He picked up a clean rag and stepped over to George. “I can…” he began wiping off the excess paint. “I can get most of it off but honestly? This jacket is ruined. I’m really only making it worse.” He continued to rub the fabric anyway. George didn’t stop him.</p><p>There was a soft flush of pink beginning to tint the tops of his ears and his cheeks. George didn’t mind the subtle groping of his bicep as much as he should have. “It’ll be fine. You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p>“I was painting… couldn’t you tell?”</p><p>“Is that what that’s called?”</p><p>The man laughed and looked up at him, his hand still swiping idly and ineffectively at the fabric. George quite liked the sound. “It’s all part of the job.” He offered with a small smile. George nearly smiled back. He was cute from this angle too. Deep brown eyes surrounded by what could only be lack of sleep, a gentle nose, an incredibly kissable mouth…</p><p>“Is tripping also part of the job?”</p><p>“Depends. Are you mad about your suit?”</p><p>“Not really.”</p><p>“Then it’s part of the job,” he chuckled and George was very aware of how close they were to each other and that the hands on his bicep were no longer moving.<br/>“In that case, don’t let me detain you…”</p><p>His brown eyes went wide and he gave a bashful smile. “Alex… Alexander but you can call me Alex.”</p><p>“Alexander.” He tested it out. He’d hate to shorten it. He was already rather elated at having a name to put to that face… and those hips.</p><p>“That’s me.” Alex said before pulling his lower lip into his mouth. George caught the movement and would likely replay it in his head again later. </p><p>“I’m going to go change. I’ll let you get back to work, Alexander.”</p><p>“See you around.” He gave a small finger wave and bit the inside of his cheek.</p><p>George nodded and closed the door behind him. He went to his room and laid his paint splattered jacket over his bathroom sink. He pressed his hands to either side of the counter and took a deep breath. He let it go as he looked at himself in the mirror.  Not at all how he anticipated this day going but he suddenly didn’t mind his home being overrun with strangers… one in particular was incredibly welcome.</p><p>Maybe Gilbert was right… maybe he should be a little more invested in this renovation?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George woke up to the nagging sound of a saw and groaned. He shoved his face into his pillow and clenched his eyes. It was Saturday for god’s sake. He had given the go ahead for the renovation crew to work on the weekends and it still drove him mad. They usually tried to keep it quiet but there was only so much tip toeing around that a work crew can do.</p><p>If he was going to get through this day he’d need coffee. Not one to stay in bed once awake, he rolled out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. The wood floor was cool beneath his feet as he padded over to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and was grateful that he didn’t look nearly as tired as he felt. He splashed his face with cool water and brushed his teeth quickly.</p><p>He thought better of going downstairs with no shoes on. Slipping on a pair of dark slippers, a gift from Martha, he opened the door and was immediately bombarded with laughter and noise. He reached the bottom of the stairs he very clearly heard Alexander say “You all fucking suck. I hate you all.”</p><p>He rounded the corner with curiosity. He knew from coming home early a few days that Alexander was close with his fellow workers. They were standing at the kitchen counter and Alexander was definitely blushing behind a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter, very close to the pot of coffee that George desperately wanted access to. Brown eyes flew over to him as he entered the kitchen. Instantly, coffee was trickling down his chin and a burst of laughter filled the room.</p><p>“You seem to be in good spirits despite the early hour,” George greeted them as he moved across the kitchen from the gathered workers towards the cabinet filled with mugs. He reached up to grab a large mug and heard a muttered “fuck” behind him.</p><p>“We’re all just enjoying the nice weather, right Alex?” Hercules poked.</p><p>Alex was dabbing his mouth with a work rag and glaring at his friend. George restrained himself from smiling. George moved towards him and his expression changed immediately. He looked wide eyed and maybe a little hungry. “Right…” came the soft reply as George moved towards him.</p><p>It hadn’t seemed necessary to put on a shirt before coming downstairs and now it seemed it was causing quite the distraction to a particular employee. Alex was definitely staring at his chest. George wasn’t meaning to crowd him… at least, not entirely. He truly did need to be where Alex was standing. His kitchen layout was something that needed improvement. But this didn’t seem so bad at the moment. Save for the onlookers.</p><p>“Would you mind if I,” George broke off assuming Alex would catch his meaning.</p><p>“No,” Alex said softly. His eyes were on dark shoulders and he appeared dazed. He heard a snort and shook himself awake. “No, no. Of course. Sorry we helped ourselves.” He slid himself down the counter enough for George to step beside him and reach for the coffee pot.</p><p>“Not at all. I assume caffeine can only help at this point. Sounds like a full house today,” he said as he poured his coffee. He was incredibly aware that Alex was standing very close to him, looking over at him.</p><p>It had been a long time since he had been in a scene so domestic. It tugged at his heart strings. He wasn’t smitten with the man yet, but if he kept looking at him like that George had half a mind to do more than bed him.</p><p>“Ah, yes. A very busy day. Sorry about the commotion so early but deadlines…”</p><p>George tried to give a warm smile at the Frenchman as he turned his attention towards him. “You’ve only just begun. I wouldn’t be worried about deadlines just yet.” He chuckled.</p><p>“Of course, of course. But while I ‘ave you ‘ere…”</p><p>George sighed and shook his head. He looked to Alex who was still staring at him. “No rest for the wicked.”</p><p>“Are you wicked?” Alex asked on a breath.</p><p>George stared him down before smirking. He nodded to Gilbert. He walked away, coffee in hand and smug as could be. He felt awake in a way he hadn't for too long. He'd get dressed and consult with Gilbert and hope that he could catch sight of Alexander once again. He was becoming increasingly fascinated with the warmth he could bring to those cheeks. Wicked? Oh, without a doubt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*le sigh* Alright.... it's shorter than I anticipated. Hopefully a hefty chapter 3 but I'm also trying to work up another update for my other active WHam fic and rambling out a Spirk fic while dealing with not only a pounding headache but a dog insistent on playing fetch in the office. Excuses excuses. Sometimes it just be that way...</p><p>As always, all the gratitude for reading! Lots of thanks and kisses and love!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's all thank dreamlittleyo for getting me back to writing and posting during this weird ass time. Huzzah!</p><p>New chapter soon.</p><p>Oodles and Oodles of love and gratitude!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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